


don't think about the nightmares

by devyn_nichole



Series: love & loss [1]
Category: The Dark Artifices Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father-Son Relationship, Happy Fathers Day, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Sleepy Cuddles, i wrote this on impulse in two hours, it's cute though i swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 11:01:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19249858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devyn_nichole/pseuds/devyn_nichole
Summary: Jem shakes the boys' shoulder, his voice getting louder. "Kit, wake up. Wake up, Kit, please, it's just a nightmare, wake up." Jem shakes Kit a bit harder. "Wake up, Kit!"Kit's eyes flew open and he shot up off the bed. He was breathing hard and his pullover hoodie- Jem's hoodie-  was soaked through with sweat even though the window was open and it couldn't have been more than fifty degrees outside. There were tears in his eyes."Jem?" Kit's voice was quiet and scared, and disbelieving. Jem's heart broke into a thousand pieces.^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^Jem comforts Kit after a nightmare.





	don't think about the nightmares

This was the third time tonight Mina had woken up. Twice for a diaper change and once for food. Jem finally got her back to sleep and walked down the hall back to his and Tessa's bedroom, yawning widely and rubbing his eye. 

As he walked past Kit's room, he heard a thump, like something falling to the ground off of a low shelf. It was followed by a shattering sound and a sharp cry. Jem burst through the door, expecting to find someone- the Riders- in the room, even though that was ridiculous; silent and quick wasn't really their style. But instead of finding Kit lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood, Jem saw him thrashing on his bed. 

The thick blanket was tangled around his body and half-kicked off the side of the bed, and the little action figure that Tessa had gotten him, which usually lived on his bedside table, was on the floor halfway across the room. The crash Jem had heard had been Kit's bedside lamp, which was now in pieces on the floor. 

Kit was still thrashing around wildly, making pained little noises and arching his back, trying to buck off some invisible enemy. Jem came around to the bed and sat on the side of it. Kit's eyes were closed, his eyebrows scrunched so hard together Jem worried the skin on his temples and forehead would split. 

"Kit," Jem whispers. "Kit, wake up." Kit does no so such thing, just continues on in the world of his night terror, and Jem goes against his better judgment to touch Kit.

As soon as his hand landed on Kit's shoulder, Kit let out a yell. He fought against Jem, twisting and writhing. 

"No, no, no, let me go, let me go, get off me, please..." Kit's voice was panicked and hoarse, his words coming out slurred. 

Jem shakes the boys' shoulder, his voice getting louder. "Kit, wake up. Wake up, Kit, please, it's just a nightmare, wake up." Jem shakes Kit a bit harder. "Wake up, Kit!"

Kit's eyes flew open and he shot up off the bed. He was breathing hard and his pullover hoodie- Jem's hoodie- was soaked through with sweat even though the window was open and it couldn't have been more than fifty degrees outside. There were tears in his eyes. 

"Jem?" Kit's voice was quiet and scared, and disbelieving. Jem's heart broke into a thousand pieces. 

"Yes, Kit, it's me, it's Jem, I promise." Jem put his hand on the side of Kit's face and stroked his thumb softly over his cheek. Kit leaned into the motion and let out a sob, launching towards Jem and wrapping his arms around his shoulders, burying his face in his neck. Jem felt a wet spot forming on his skin, and Kit's shoulders shook with silent sobs. 

"Shh, it's okay, I'm right here, it was just a nightmare, you're okay, shh." Jem stroked his hand through Kit's tangled hair, while the other rubbed little circles on his back. 

Kit's sniffles eventually die down, but he doesn't let go of Jem, so the older man asks him, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Jem waits patiently for an answer, which takes a while. "It was my father," Kit starts shakily. "Those demons, they ripped him to shreds, right in front of me, and I didn't... I couldn't do anything. I was just so helpless." 

Jem scraped his nails over Kit's scalp comfortingly. "That wasn't your fault."

Kit didn't reply. "And he didn't move out of his stupid protection circle to help me, either. He just stood there, telling me I wasn't worthy of being protected. And then it changed to Liv-Livvy." His voice faltered and cracked on her name. "Annabel kept pushing that sword through her chest, over and over, and it wouldn't stop. And then it was Ty, in Livvy's place." Jem felt Kit shudder. "And then it changed to my mom."

Jem couldn't tell which one of them stiffened. "The Riders," Kit continued. "They took her, tied her and I up, made me watch as they tortured her, and then they did the same thing to you, and Tessa and they killed Mina and they were about to kill me. And then I woke up." There were more tears on Jem's neck, and he closed his eyes, fighting tears himself. 

Kit was strong, so strong, and much too young to have gone through what had happened to him. Jem would protect this boy with his life. 

Kit still hadn't let go of Jem, and he was dozing a little bit, but the older man didn't mind. He was more than happy to hold his son while he slept if that meant peaceful dreams for him. 

Jem shifted so he lay in the middle of the bed, Kit half on top of him and cuddled into his chest. Kit usually looked older than he was, mischevious and withdrawn and a bit cynical, but like this, bundled up in Jem's too-large hoodie, he looked young and vulnerable. Jem pulled him a bit closer, almost not noticing when Kit hissed quietly.

"What's wrong?" Jem looked down, searching for injuries. Kit pulled his right hand up from where it was resting on Jem's chest. There was blood all over his hand and on his sleeve. Jem couldn't stop his heart from jumping in his chest with panic. "What happened?"

Kit drowsily pointed to the bedside table where his lamp had been. There, on top of a stack of Sherlock Holmes books and comics, was the Herondale dagger. He caught his hand when he was fighting in his sleep. Jem reached down and grabbed Kit's hand, inspecting the cut. It was long, but not too deep, from his palm and curving to the back of his hand. Jem reached on the nightstand closest to him and grabbed Kit's stele. Kit jumped slightly when Jem started tracing an iratze but calmed when his hand stopped stinging. Jem threw the stele to the side and cuddled Kit closer to him, bringing the blanket up over their shoulders. Kit snuggled closer and Jem smiled, kissing the top of his hair. 

"I love you," he murmured softly, pressing another kiss to Kit's forehead.

Kit smiled, small but bright, and painfully genuine; Jem's boy, his precious son. "I love you, too, Dad."

**Author's Note:**

> thx so much for reading my fellow thots. this is my first (posted) work and i'm hella sensitive so be nice y'all. kudos and comments v appreciated, and if u wanna be spammed by endless memes and bullshit abt kit herondale come follow my tumblr http://dude-thats-d0pe.tumblr.com/ (srry if the link doesn't work i'm still figuring shit out lmao) xoxo- devyn


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